


Lift Me Up

by rosettared



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Denial, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Getting Together, Identity Reveal, Kissing, Rain, Sick Character, love square, mentions of season 2 episodes, mild angst because i'm too much of a chicken to do heavy angst, they get sick together, they're already best friends here, visits to the sick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-05-02 12:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14544315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosettared/pseuds/rosettared
Summary: After watching Chat Noir almost get himself killed once again, Ladybug strongly considers they tell each other the truth - though not before he tells her his plan to cheer her up.A patrol picnic.Simple enough. What could go wrong?In which Adrien gets sick, they get trapped in an elevator, and Master Fu knows what's really in Marinette's heart.





	1. Enough is Enough

**Author's Note:**

> HEY LOOK ROSETTA'S NOT WRITING A ONE-SHOT THIS TIME
> 
> Really going out of my comfort zone and writing a multi-chaptered fic, I hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> Where Marinette is exhausted, and Adrien is just trying to be a good friend.

Marinette had a lot on her mind right now, and she wasn’t sure which thought she should address first. Recalling everything that unfolded before her very eyes – watching yet another schoolmate upset over what only Chloé found trivial, watching as she succumbed to Hawk Moth’s tempting offer, watching as she reigned fiery terror upon Paris with her fuelled rage, watching as Chat Noir took yet another hit for her – it was all becoming quite overwhelming for her.

It didn’t quite help that she had a bad week to begin with, and it was a wonder how _she_ had not yet been akumatised herself (Tikki once mentioned that bearing the miraculous gave her the protection from Hawk Moth’s akumas, but _surely,_ he’s sensed her negative emotions before). Alya had been horribly ill with high fever, so she sat by herself through all her classes. Her sewing machine had broken the very minute she wanted to start on a project she had been excited for.  Her workload from school was ridiculous, what more with her responsibilities as class president piling up. Marinette had come running into class one morning with a cup of coffee, and it didn’t take long until she tripped over herself on the school steps (well, Adrien lent her his jacket to wear over her stained shirt, if anything good came out of _that_ ).

As Lady Luck herself, it was funny how her luck seemed to be running dry.

She wasn’t laughing.

She watched over the city she fought to protect, swinging her legs as they dangled over the ledge of the rooftop. She was forty minutes early for her joint Friday patrol with Chat tonight, but she couldn’t think at home. The confined pink walls of her bedroom, though she loved them, were not what she wanted to associate with the battles in her brain. Her room was her workspace, where she felt creativity flow from her head to her hands, where she put heart into each of her projects. She needed the fresh air and wide-open space she could only get from over the rooftops of Paris. It reminded her that her decisions may bring consequences to her people, including the people she loved, so she had to think about her actions more carefully.

Today’s akuma, Medusa, was Clara, a girl from Marinette’s art class. Before class had started, she had shown Marinette her art project, which was a near-perfect clay sculpture of herself, from the collarbone up. It had taken her every day since they received their assignment, and she was proud. But when it was Clara’s turn to unveil it to the class, she could only look and gape in sheer horror. Someone had defaced it – it was missing both ears, and there were cracks everywhere. It didn’t take a genius to know who was behind it, and the sight of Chloe and Sabrina high-fiving and snickering was all the proof she needed. Marinette had run after her to cheer her up, but she realised that Hawk Moth got to her first. He had given her elongated snake-like locks, which could turn whoever she wished into solid stone (instead of her eyes, like in the stories Marinette read as a child).

Of all the thoughts that ran in her mind, the most profound one – the one that shouted and nagged for her attention – was the memory of Chat pushing her away and taking her place when one of Medusa’s serpents aimed for her. She had had her guard down, trying to think of a plan with her Lucky Charm (a can of hairspray, go figure), and she somehow missed the ear-piercing cry of “Ladybug, watch out!” from her partner, and before she knew it, her breath was knocked out of her and Chat slowly turned into stone, from where the snake had wrapped itself around his waist. When Medusa threatened to knock him over, and _shatter him into a million pieces,_ the scream that left Marinette’s mouth was shrill and deafening, raw with dread and fear.

She hated this feeling.

That was the sixth time this month. Chat had been taking bullets meant for her, time and time again, and Marinette hated it. She was so sick of watching her partner put himself in danger, which often times made him turn against her. She hated fighting one of her best friends over and over again. Other times, Chat would literally take bullets for her, which was much, much worse. She couldn’t count the number of times in their three years together that she’s watched him die in her arms, watched him untangle from her grasp that had only grown tighter as time passed. If it wasn’t for her restoration spell after each battle, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

She was tired of losing him.

The sound of footsteps hitting the ground broke her reverie, and she quickly wiped away the tears with her wrists. After the battle, she hadn’t spoken a word to the cat, hadn’t even looked at him. She remembered throwing him a hushed “see you later” over her shoulder before swinging home. He had called out to her, but she just had her mind set on getting to the bakery as fast as she could. Usually she would make it a priority to check up on him after battles, but there was only so much a girl could take.

She heard the slow steps he took in her direction, probably hesitant to approach. She straightened her position and kept her eyes on the twinkling city lights, still refusing to turn to him. “Hey,” he offered weakly, breaking the heavy silence between them. When she replied with a disinterested ‘hmm’, she saw from her peripheral that he took it upon himself to take a seat on the roof beside her. She could see that he was fidgeting with his miraculous, which he only did when he was nervous. She had half a mind to ease his thoughts, probably agitated to start the conversation, but she stayed stubborn and kept her mouth shut.

She still had a bone to pick with him.

Eventually, he cleared his throat to get her attention (he already had it, but she didn’t want him to know that yet).

“Some akuma today, huh?” he tried again. Nothing. Her eyes stayed on the glittering lights of the Eiffel Tower, not very far from where they sat. He heaved a heavy sigh. “Ladybug, about what happened earlier…” Still nothing from her. She was just going to let him ramble. Another sigh. “Look, I know you’re still mad at me for what I did. I called out your name, but you didn’t hear me, and she almost turned _you_ into a statue! I can’t say I’m sorry for pushing you, but I _am_ sorry I made you worry. I know you would’ve done the same for me. We’re partners, after all, right?” Again, nothing. He was only making things worse. She let him try again. “If there’s anything I could do to make it up to you, just say the word and I’ll do it.”

Marinette closed her eyes and took one deep break in, and held it for four seconds, then slowly let it out for another eight. She repeated the practice one more time, tension calmly leaving her body, before opening her eyes and finally looking his way, offering him a small smile. She noticed how quickly his shoulders dropped and expression softened, ready to hear what she has to say. The anticipation in his eyes almost made her regret not speaking sooner.

Almost.

“Chat, you’re not just a partner to me. You know you’re one of my best friends, right?” she finally spoke.

Maybe it could’ve been how he took in the word ‘friend’, but he was briefly hesitant. Then he returned her smile. “’Course I do.”

“We’ve been saving Paris for, what, three years? We were only fourteen when we got the job. Crazy, huh?”

His smile grew a little more. “Yeah, we were,” he agreed.  “Time sure flies, doesn’t it? Those three years have been rewarding, I have to say.”

She felt her nerves loosen up a bit, but then they quickly tightened again. “And… and you know I trust you with my life, right?”

“And you, mine.”

“Yeah, it’s that.” Marinette took in another deep breath, then scooted closer to him on the ledge. “What you did for me with Medusa… Chat, I can’t thank you enough. You’re brave, and noble, and so, so selfless. I couldn’t ask for a better partner, but… See, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you always trying to protect me. I do, more than you’ll ever know – heck, I’ll do the same for you. You know that.” She was stalling. She had become a master in the art of rambling, if only to take her time to fight back the tears behind her eyes and the lump in her throat.

Luckily, he couldn’t tell, as he simply chuckled and said, “Yes, I do. That’s what partners do. That’s what friends do, right?”

 She nodded, still fighting a losing battle. “Yeah, yeah, friends do that. Chat, listen,” she sighed, putting one gloved hand over the other, softly drumming her fingers. It was best to stop beating about the bush and just tell him like it was, tears be darned. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it. You almost _died_ today. Medusa threatened to topple you over and _let you break_ if I didn’t hand over my miraculous. I had to face her scaly snakes all by myself, and she almost killed you! Do you know how terrified I was? I mean, I know we’re both scared to face akumas to some extent but come on! She could have ended your life like that!” Marinette snapped her fingers for emphasis.

Chat looked away from her gaze, not wanting to see the fury in her eyes, then she calmed down a little. She was lashing out, and that was only unfair to him. He was only doing his duty, after all. She turned his face to look at her, for she wanted to see the sincerity in the tears that trailed down her mask. He almost missed how she let a tiny sob escape, and his jaw dropped.

“I swear, Chat Noir, I’m not mad at you,” she began, her voice controlled, hoping she could get at least this to him. Chat, however, did not look convinced. “I’m just… I’m just tired. I know you mean well, but I’m tired of having to fight you over and over again, or _worse._ I almost lost you _again_ today, and I hate that I can’t make you promise it won’t happen anymore, because _it will._ You and I both know that.”

Chat was quiet for quite some time, longer than Marinette liked, and she waited for him to deny her claim, or defend himself. _Say something,_ she thought. When he didn’t, she sighed again and proceeded. “We protect each other, Kitty. I know I’ve taken blows for you before, but it’s obvious that our counts don’t tally.” She brought up one hand to his face to gently rub her thumb against his cheek. He leaned into her touch, and Marinette felt her insides turn to mush and flow through her body. 

“You’ve thrown me off a roof.” The dumb cat _dared_ to give her a cheeky grin. She wanted to smack it right off his pretty face.

“When you were mind-controlled! _Do you see where I’m going with this?”_

Chat lifted his own hand to hers, and he wrapped his fingers around her own. When he placed a soft kiss on her palm, even through the layers of spandex between them, all of Marinette’s nerves caught on fire, the burn spreading from her neck to the tips of her ears. He then pursed his lips in thought. “You’re the only one who can save the akuma victims. We can’t afford for you to get hurt. I can’t let anything happen to you, Bugaboo.” It was rare that he used that particular nickname in such a situation, but she guessed that was how he tried to lighten the mood. By the direction this conversation was going, he didn’t have much luck there. “If they get to you, there’s not much I can do. I find out where the akuma is, break it free, and then what? I don’t have my own ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ like you, I can’t clean up our messes or purify the akumas, and I know you’re more than capable to save Paris without me. You’re way too important for our missions, so I will gladly put your safety before my own.”

“Even if it’ll cost you your life?”

“ _Especially_ if it’ll cost me my life! Better me than you, Ladybug,” his voice strained, and she realised he was holding back just as much as she was. “Besides, you always save me in the end, right? I trust that whatever sacrifice I make, you’ll always find a way to make things right.”

“ _That’s not the point_ , Chat. I don’t _want_ to have to fight you anymore. I don’t _want_ to have to save Paris without you, I _can’t_ do it without you. I’ve seen you die in _so many_ ways, and I want it to stop. I just…” her voice faltered, and like the weight of all her week’s troubles taking their toll on her, she finally broke the dam behind her eyes, not caring that she looked more vulnerable than ever to her partner. This was the boy she trusted with every fibre of her being. He deserved to see her like this. 

“Just because I can purify akumas, that doesn’t make you expendable,” she added in between desperate sobs. “You are _not_ expendable, Chat, do you hear me? You’re just as important as I am, and I want to be by your side, every step of the way. We’re a team, remember? We fight for Paris _together._ ” Marinette took his hands in her own and squeezed, trying to tell him that every word she spoke was 100% fact. “I don’t need you to fight _for_ me, I need you to fight _with_ me. There’s only so much I can take, so I need you to promise that you’ll be more careful, Chat. I… I-I lo-,” _Not yet,_ she thought. She couldn’t bring herself to say it, not right now. She cleared her throat and tried one more time. “I can’t lose you.”

She saw the way his muscles relaxed, and his shoulders dropped again, and she felt the breath he was slowly letting out through his nose. She welcomed the way he released his hands from her hold, so he could wrap them around her waist and pull her closer to him, flushing at how he pressed a lingering kiss on the top of her head. “Alright. I promise.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

* * *

Adrien had never been more on edge.

Ever since his talk with Ladybug last week, her words had become his new mantra, playing in his head like a broken radio. _‘Be more careful’,_ she had said to him. He was bound to find a new akuma victim this week, but by Wednesday, nothing had happened yet. The stillness was unsettling, and Adrien had been on the lookout for any suspicious activity. His enhanced senses as Chat Noir had seeped more into his civilian life as time went on, so that made it all-the-more easy for him. He kept a watchful eye on Chloé, and so far, she hadn’t given anyone more distress than usual, so he supposed that should have eased him a little.

It didn’t.

Something bad was going to happen. He could feel it.

Adrien walked into class that morning, his head reminding him repeatedly to calm down, and was taken aback at the sight of his best friend in the seat next to his own. Nino looked… off. For starters, he was incredibly pallid, his form pale and weak. His eyes drooped behind his thick-framed glasses, and the bags and dark circles underneath were as clear as day. The turn of his body to greet Adrien was sluggish, and his reactions were belated.

Nino was just fine last week, so Adrien tried to recall their past conversations to see what could have made him so sick. He remembered Nino excusing himself from their study sessions to pay Alya a quick visit when _she_ was sick. He and Marinette didn’t think too much of it the first time, awed at how much Nino cared for his girlfriend, to be there in her time of need. Now that he was thinking about it, it baffled him how he didn’t realise that he would leave to see her twice, thrice, several times in that same week. The one time he and Marinette made time to visit Alya themselves, Nino was already there.

He _did_ mention that he was at Alya’s all weekend.

_Ah, that explains it,_ Adrien thought.

“Dude, you look awful,” he told Nino bluntly, skipping their morning handshake routine. Nino didn’t even try to look offended, and instead opted to give him a shrug. “Why did you come? You should be lying on your bed, resting at home.”

Nino sniffled. “No one was at home, and my mom wouldn’t let me stay by myself.”

Adrien knitted his eyebrows. “You’re _seventeen_.”

“You’ve met my mom.”

_That’s true. Touché, Lahiffe. Touché._

“Go to the nurse’s, then. That’s much better than staying here.”

“No point. I shouldn’t have to miss today’s classes.”

“There’s also no point if you’re gonna be sneezing and coughing in class, either.”

It was astounding how flat and final Nino’s expression was in his sick state, refusing to budge from his spot. There was no talking him out of leaving class.

So be it.

Adrien shook his head, then taking his seat in the front row and placing a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “I’m gonna help you get through this, man. Don’t worry about it. I can reteach everything you might miss, and you can borrow my notes to copy once you get better.” He took out the notebook and pens from his bag, prepared for the day’s lessons. “And I’ll explain the situation to the teachers if they decide to pick on you – if they can’t already tell,” he chuckled quietly.

Nino gave him a reassuring grin, one that barely reached his tired eyes, and plopped his elbow on their desk and opened his palm. There was only one thing that could mean, so Adrien clasped his hand in his and squeezed, telling Nino he was honouring his word (his _bro-mise_ , as he liked to think. Nino left the room when he first told him this). He watched from his peripheral as Nino blew his nose into a tissue, and the class was filling up more, with Mme Bustier walking through the door a sign that she was about to begin today’s lesson (she must have loved their class a whole lot, if teaching them for three years in a row was something to come by).

For the rest of the day, Adrien made sure to give as much aid as he could to his sick best friend. He followed him to the nurse’s office for some much-needed medication, he waited for him all through lunch because Nino was eating more slowly, and he helped him up the stairs because he didn’t exactly have the energy. Nino occasionally insisted that his help wasn’t necessary, but Adrien wasn’t having it.

An hour into their next class, with Adrien diligently jotting down his notes and Nino coughing in the background, all heads turned to see the classroom door being violently swung open by one tardy Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She stumbled to her seat as rushed as the apology she gave their teacher, who was, with everyone else, all too familiar to Marinette’s notorious track record. She had never really been discreet about it. Adrien assumed she ran all the way to school, given how heavy she was panting behind him.

While their teacher wasn’t looking, he turned to smile at his friend in greeting. “Overslept again?” he whispered, a smirk now replacing his grin.

She shook her head, settling down and getting her own tablet out. “Not this time,” she replied, almost proud that she was late for something else for a change. Her eyes then darted to Nino. “What happened to him?”

“Alya. Too many visits,” he chuckled into his fist. “Speaking of, any word from her?”

She nodded. “That’s why I’m late. I stopped by her place this morning with some treats from the bakery.” She took out a small green box from her backpack, opened the lid and offered some cream puffs (well, whatever was left) to Adrien, who happily popped one into his mouth. Those were Alya’s favourites, and he knew her parents had made them fresh this morning. “She’s getting better, thank goodness. She’s certainly faring better than Sir Snot McSniffles over there,” she snorted. “If she’s well enough, she’ll even come to school tomorrow. After more than a week of sitting by myself, that’s something to look forward to.”

“Excuse me?” he scoffed in disbelief. “What are Nino and I, then? Gargoyles? Have you not been appreciating our company, Mme Dupain-Cheng?" 

She punched his shoulder lightly, only to humour him, and he rubbed where she hit him with a pout. “You know what I mean."

“Some friend _you_ are. You’ve broken my heart.”

She giggled. “Aw, does the poor little rich boy want me to patch it up? Shall I fetch you a band-aid, Adrien?”

He couldn’t help the hopeless smile on his face. He loved hearing his name roll off her tongue.

They were both interrupted by their teacher loudly clearing her throat, like she was as sick as Nino right now, and they both faced forward with their hands on their desks. “Excuse me, Adrien and Marinette, would you like to take over my class?” she put her hands on her hips and eyed them menacingly. He imagined that when the day came to finally face Hawk Moth in person, his evil glare would rival hers. “I will gladly sit aside so you can share what you have to say to the rest of class.”

Adrien didn’t dare look up, only hearing faint sniggers from his classmates. He kept his eyes on his hands, and flatly told their teacher, “No, ma’am.”

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” Marinette chimed in, and their teacher resumed to writing on the chalkboard.

Slumping further into his seat and letting out a sigh, Adrien straightened up when he felt a quick, sudden vibration from the pocket of his jeans. He fished out his phone from said pocket to find one new text message: from Marinette, of course.

**_M:_ ** _Alya’s been feeling like she’s missing out. She’s just been gone for so long, and I feel bad that I haven’t been visiting her as much as Nino has, so what better than to bring her favourites and fill her in?_

Adrien took no time at all to text her a reply.

**_A:_ ** _You’re truly amazing, Marinette. She’s really lucky to have you for a best friend, then._

She didn’t text back right away, for reasons Adrien couldn’t think of at the top of his head. He wondered if she was just trying to think of the perfect response. He imagined Marinette looking at her phone with such intensity, like if she stared hard enough her text would write itself, and aggressively hitting the keys, her tongue stuck out in that cute little way she did when she was concentrating. That was what _he_ tended to do if he didn’t send a reply in 0.4 seconds. Then his phone lit up.

**_M:_ ** _I know, right? Who wouldn’t be? :P_

**_A:_ ** _lmao can’t argue with that. You gonna see her again after school?_

**_M:_ ** _Definitely. I asked my parents to save some madeleines when I go visit her again. I might even bring along some video games! You coming with?_

Oh, how tempting that truly was, that Adrien almost said yes.

**_A:_ ** _Don’t think so :( You know how it takes my father three business days to pay me any attention._

**_M:_ ** _All too well, unfortunately._

**_A:_ ** _Don’t you think you’ve fed her enough?_

**_M:_ ** _Hey, I say that free food and good company are KEY to cheering someone up. You should try it sometime ;)_

Something about that last text had him drawn, and he found himself rereading it over and over. Even as the final bell rang, and he and Nino headed straight for the library to study, he was still thinking about it. He couldn’t get it off his mind even as he came home and walked into his bedroom, flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He knew that _he_ would greatly appreciate being surrounded by his closest friends and talk about life with pizzas in hand. He certainly had to try that out the next time one of his friends needed good cheering up. Had any of them been upset lately?

“You made Ladybug pretty mad,” Plagg pointed out, flying out from underneath his overshirt to land on the mattress. He must have said that one out loud. “Would be nice if you did something for her, I don’t know.”

Adrien couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I’m sorry, was that what I thought it was? Good, dare I say _helpful,_ advice?” he raised an eyebrow, doubtful. “Ground-breaking. I didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.”

“Hey, I’m just sayin’,” the kwami stated and gave him an indifferent shrug. “You did say you’d do something for her. Better get to it, boy.”

That wasn’t a bad idea. Perhaps he should.

All sorts of ideas to make Ladybug feel better came flooding his brain, and Adrien got out of bed to hurry to his desk. He must have gone too fast, because he felt a sharp pang to the head, suddenly feeling as if the room was spinning, holding the corner of the desk for support. He couldn’t breathe properly, for his nose was slowly getting congested and he started to sniffle. His throat began to clench a little, and he could taste the phlegm at the back of his mouth. He buckled over and brought his hand to his neck as he started to cough out a lung.

Plagg, the little punk, only laughed heartily at his predicament. “Looks like all that time with Nino the Nauseous finally paid off!”

This was not good. This was not good at all. It seemed his gut feeling was right, that something bad was bound to happen, and that something bad _did_ happen – he just didn’t think it would happen to _him._

_Ladybug’s gonna kill me._


	2. Here's a Suggestion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug only wants Chat to be happy, and Marinette shows Adrien small acts of kindness that set his heart running for the hills.

As Marinette came in to land on the rooftop that served as their rendezvous point for their patrols, she reeled her yo-yo back in and kept it in its place. The very first thing she did before every patrol was to lose herself marvelling at the alluring scenery before her. The twinkle of the lights that blinked back at her, and the hustle and bustle of her people bringing life to the city, even on that dull Thursday evening, brought her joy. She loved watching them live their busy lives, trusting their safety in hers and Chat Noir’s hands, and she was often struck by moments of pure sonder.

She frequently thought of all the people who would only know her as Ladybug, and never cross paths with her as Marinette, or maybe they crossed paths with her a thousand times. She entertained the idea of how she may only know them when the safety of Paris was threatened. She couldn’t catch a break. 

That was what she did a lot of lately – thinking. She sat herself down on the ledge of the roof and rested her chin on her hands, replaying all the thoughts she had that day. Her parents had asked her to man the cashier tomorrow evening, as they were expecting the seasonal influx of customers. Nothing much had happened that day at school, except that while Alya made a long-awaited comeback, Nino was no show, and Adrien looked remarkably unwell. She figured that he must have spent too much time around Nino and caught what he was down with. Adrien showed up to school with a runny nose and intense bedhead, his hair dishevelled in a way she found eerily familiar, and persisted that he was fine, while trying to hide his sneezes and sniffles from them (to no avail).

It wasn’t often that he came by so raw and fresh out of bed, but her heart made somersaults to see him like that. Her just seemed much more… real – not that he _wasn’t_ real, but this wasn’t the Adrien all of Paris got to see on billboards and posters and advertising campaigns. This wasn’t the Adrien everyone had in their mind, as his reputation for being Gabriel Agreste’s son both wowed and intimidated the masses. She thought of herself to be really lucky to be among those to see him so unkempt, and this sight of him was all the more special to her.

(One of her greatest wishes was to wake up every morning to Adrien dozing off beside her from under the covers, peaceful and pure. She was all for getting a little sneak peek of that fantasy come to life).

She also thought about her black-clad partner. He had been occupying the spaces in her mind a whole lot more often lately. She wondered what he did on a day-to-day basis, what classes he took, what he had for lunch, what he was like with his friends (and if they had to endure as many bad puns as she had). The week had so far been quiet, and there was yet to be another akuma rampaging through the city, but she wondered what _other_ kind of trouble he could possibly get himself into. She grinned at the image of Chat roaring with laughter, sitting at a table with his pals, probably telling dumb stories and winning girls over with his effortless charm. She wondered if she had seen him before, or if she would’ve been a pal.

Given she’s known him for so long, she probably would’ve been won over, if she was honest with herself. 

 _Probably? You’re not fooling anyone, Marinette. Hasn’t he already?_  

She wondered if things would be much easier without the masks – if not for her, then for her heart. 

“Nice of you to swing by, My Lady,” Marinette jumped at the voice, and turned around to find the very boy taking up her thoughts, leaning against a chimney. He had his arms crossed, his thatch of blond hair more messed up and unruly than usual, a devious smirk on his lips, and his green eyes glowing even as he watched her from under his lashes. It used to annoy her whenever he pulled that smug face and cocky attitude, but now she thought he’d never been more endearing.

Guilt weighed heavier on her shoulders. She pushed the image of the two boys her heart yearned for to the back of her mind, settling to compose herself.

She held a hand over her chest and stood up to walk towards him, breathing out a relieved sigh. “Good God, Chat Noir, you gave me a heart attack!” She slapped him across the arm, but even with her soft force, his face scrunched up, and he quickly brought his other hand up to protectively wrap around his arm. Her eyebrows tightened, and she frowned in worry. She reached a hand up to him hesitantly. “Oh my god, are you okay? Was that a little too hard?” 

Chat looked up and waved her away a couple steps, and she reluctantly pulled back. “No, no, no, I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured her, then straightened himself out and put on a small smile for her, before rubbing his nose with his finger and sniffed slightly. She looked at him a little more closely. Unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, he looked slightly wan. His eyes were void of the mischief she was so used to seeing.

What had he been up to? Was there a virus going around or something? 

“Are you sure? Do you have a cold or…?” 

“Ladybug, I’m okay, it’s just a runny nose, _I’m fine_.” 

Marinette shook her head. “Chat, it’s my turn to patrol the city today,” she stated. “What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t I allowed to see my favourite lady?” He stepped closer to her until they were toe to toe and held her watchful gaze, reaching for her cheek and lightly sweeping his fingers against her skin. She hated that her cheeks heated up at the gentle contact, and she hoped and prayed it was dark enough that he couldn’t see her blush.

 _Relax, Marinette, it’s just Chat,_ she reminded herself, and she held her chin high and rolled her eyes – two things she had gotten used to doing around him. “No, you gotta wait for tomorrow, _minou_.” She gave him a quick boop on the nose. “Why are you _really_ here?”

He took a step back and held his chin in between his fingers, as if stroking his goatee in contemplation, and slowly vultured around her. “My Lady, I know how you’ve been upset with me lately-”

“You got that right.” She crossed her arms.

“-and if memory serves me right, I told you that I would do anything to make it up to you. I said if there was anything you wanted me to do to cheer you up, I would do it. Do you remember that, Bugaboo?”

She sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple. “Yes, I do. That was last week, _chaton._ ”

“Well, I’ve been pacing around and thinking-”

“A dangerous pastime, I’m sure.” 

“Hey!”

She snickered. “Okay, okay, sorry. Carry on.”

“ _As I was saying,_ ” He stopped circling, and his eyes glimmered with excitement, which Marinette found oddly suspicious and slightly worrying. “I do have quite the enticing proposal for you." 

He threw his bait into the water, and he was trying to reel her in, hoping she would catch it. She might as well go along with it and hear exactly what he had to say. “Alright, cat, I’m listening.”

Chat clapped his hands together and sliced the air between them, then showing her a toothy smirk. “Patrol picnic.”

Marinette stood with her eyes widened and eyebrows raised, confused and dumbfounded. It took her a good three seconds to come up with, “ _What?”_

“Hear me out, I swear you’ll like it,” he promised, but then held his fist to his mouth and suppressed… a burp? A cough? She wasn’t sure. It was short-lived, because he immediately composed himself and came towards her to place his hands on her shoulders. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring some treats from the best bakery in town. We’ll meet up a little earlier than usual – say, seven o’clock? – and, you know, just enjoy each other’s company. We can hang around the rooftops, watch over our magical little city, and talk about life and stuff.”

“Not too much about life, I hope.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” he teased with a wink. “Wouldn’t you like to get to know each other more, LB?”

“Tomorrow?” She made a promise to her parents to help out at the bakery tomorrow, but she didn’t have the heart to disappoint her partner. She looked up at him, and she could’ve sworn he was trying to pull pleading kitty-cat eyes on her. She would absolutely hate to let him down. “Chat, that’s so thoughtful of you. I’d really like that, but…” She could only feel the light of hope in his eyes slowly die with what she was going to say. “I can’t. I made a promise to my family, so I’m gonna be really busy tomorrow. I’m not sure if I can make it before patrol.”

“Then we can push patrol a little later tomorrow night,” he suggested. He took her hands in her own and was on the verge of begging, his tone now laced with a little desperation. “Please, Ladybug. One night is far from enough to make up what I’ve put you through for three years, so I want to do this right. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it’ll take. Just let me do this for you.”

She looked down at their hands and distractedly started to swing them in the air, taking her time to think about her answer more carefully. She was taken back to the very first time Chat tried to pull something like this, all those years ago – he had confided in Marinette about Ladybug standing him up that night when he invited her for a rooftop-style dinner, and drove his point home to Ladybug that he was bitter about it.

She had told him that he was just a dear friend to her then, but now she wasn’t so sure. She would never lie to her friends, she had said, but maybe she was lying to herself.

“And what if I don’t show up?”

“I promise I’ll understand. I won’t get too upset this time.” Chat made a cross over his heart, clearly having learned from his rash mistake, but then he bent over slightly and clenched his eyelids, almost doubling over in pain.

“Chat, if you’re not well, you can tell me-”

“I am fine!” he told her adamantly, and she raised an eyebrow in question. “Could be food poisoning. I probably just ate something bad, don’t you worry about me. Just… just tell me you’ll at least try to come. Please.”

Chat had never been one to pressure her to do something she might not be able to do, but he really wanted this – and this was for _her_. This could be, by far, the sweetest thing he’s ever done for her, and as a friend, she could not and would not crush his spirit. She supposed this was the least she could do to make him happy, which was all she ever wished for her dearest friends.

“Okay,” she decided at last, and his eyes lit up in that very second. “Okay, Chat. I’ll try. I promise I’ll try to come, but I do have to warn you – when I’m not Ladybug, I’m pretty known for being ‘fashionably’ late.” 

“Consider me warned.”

The smile that his lips stretched into was unbelievably blinding and unrestrained. It was as if Marinette was staring at the northern lights over the mountaintops, and she melted into a pile of goo at his feet. She was not familiar with this one, for she was much more accustomed to his more playful grins, just asking for trouble. While he had shown her more genuine smiles in the past, none of them could ever measure against the one he shined down on her in this moment. Her legs had never chosen a better time to turn into jelly.   

Before she knew it, her knees buckled, and she lost her balance, falling forward straight onto Chat’s chest when he caught her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Marinette froze, not daring to look up – but she did, and she fixed her gaze on the boy who held her in his arms. She watched red crawl up from his neck to his now heated cheeks, and she was sure he saw the same on her. She caught herself losing her way in the glowing peridot of his eyes, their gleam only heightened under the moonlight.

Marinette’s eyelids began to fall, and Chat was about to lean in, and she didn’t miss the way his eyes darted to her lips, and _stayed_ on her lips, prompting her to brush over her lips with her tongue. Slowly, she got on her tiptoes and she let her eyes shut completely, treasuring every second of their little moment.  

 _“Ladybug! Chat Noir! Hand over your miraculouses!”_

The moment was broken, and they both snapped out of their trance. Both their heads turned toward the voice that boomed over their city, Paris’s new threat ready to unleash their wrath and get what they want. She untangled herself out of his hold and awkwardly straightened herself, disappointed but honestly relieved that they were so rudely interrupted. She couldn’t let herself think of what would happen if they weren’t.

Was that what she really wanted? What about Adrien?

 _Snap out of it!_ Marinette shook her head and assumed her Ladybug confidence once again. There was an akuma on the loose, after all. She cleared her throat and threw a wink to her partner over her shoulder. “Duty calls. Shall we?”

Chat Noir returned to his cocky, uninhibited bravado, showing off a smirk and accepting the challenge. Like she said, duty called, so who were they to not answer? “I thought you’d never ask.” 

* * *

Around noon, Adrien overheard his father ordering Nathalie to clear today’s schedules, with school already out of the question, before he bothered to get out of bed. In the great (and he really meant _great_ ) rarity that he had the entire day off, Adrien would have done what anyone else would have done, and sleep in. Heck, Plagg did it all the time, and he seethed with envy at the sight.

Alas, the memory of Ladybug actually saying yes to his patrol picnic, and the unmistakable could-have-been when he caught her from her fall on thin air, had his heart pounding frantically in his chest and kept him up for hours. He stirred in his sheets in the wee hours of the morning, but the image of her turning as red as her suit and those gorgeous blue eyes staring into his soul wouldn’t leave his head.

Eventually, he snored his way well through the rise of dawn, when the warm light shined through his floor-to-ceiling windows – but if the blaring alarm from his phone (that Plagg set to go off every ten minutes so Adrien can fetch him his morning cheese) didn’t wake him up, seeing his father barge into his room unannounced surely did.

Plagg must have hurriedly hidden under the pillows before he could be seen, and Adrien rose to rest on his elbows. The bed sank slightly under Gabriel’s weight when he came to sit near his son and placed a tall glass of water on his computer desk, and Adrien waited.

It took Gabriel Agreste two days to find out that he was sick.

And through his _principal._

Adrien should not have been surprised. His father may have loosened his grip on his life gradually over the years, upon the realisation that he shouldn’t keep him cooped up forever (that Adrien was grateful for every single day), but that didn’t make up for his consistent lack of involvement. One time when Adrien broke his foot in a basketball incident a couple years ago, his father only figured it out in a record-breaking three weeks.

 _After_ being shown the invoice from the hospital. 

He really tried not to blame him. For years, Adrien had pardoned his father’s behaviour, and understood it to be directly linked to his mother’s disappearance – that, and that he was just so busy, _all the time._ Gabriel _was_ a world-renowned fashion designer, but sometimes he dared to wonder exactly how much work he could possibly have to run a globally-recognised company that it gave him absolutely zero time to spend even _one_ dinner with his son.

But he knew he was trying.

He could only observe his father, who was busy fidgeting with the small rectangle in his hands. Gabriel just sat there with his eyes on the pack. Adrien knew that he wasn’t very open with his emotions and would frequently take his time to think of the right things to say, so he kept waiting. Instead, his father reached out to hand the pack over to him, and Adrien realised it was a blister pack of pills. 

“Take it, Adrien,” the designer said, at long last. Adrien took it from him and had a closer look at the generic medication. White pills in two rows of four, with a lidding seal of aluminium foil. He popped one open from the packet and into his mouth, swallowing quickly. “I had your bodyguard pick this up for you while you were asleep.” 

He nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

“Your fencing lesson has been cancelled for today, and your next photoshoot has been put on hold until you fully recover. The entire team was not happy, but I suppose they understood,” Gabriel added, looking up to see his son. His tone did not fall short of his usual monotone. He then scooted closer to Adrien and pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, his expression now morphing into one of worry. “Hmm… you’re burning up. I want you to stay home and get as much rest as you need. I’ll have Nathalie make sure you drink enough water, and that you take your medicine as per the required dosage.”

He nodded again and tried for a small smile. “Yes, Father,” he coughed. “Thank you.”

But Gabriel didn’t stand up and leave the room just yet. He stayed planted on the bed, facing his son, and Adrien didn’t want to hold the eye contact for too long. He loved his father, and did whatever he could to please him and tried to be there for him, but there was still so much about him that he didn’t know. He felt so incredibly awkward when he was left alone with him, much like right now, and hated how rare the occasions were when Gabriel acted like a _real_ father.

The silence was thick, but then Gabriel let out a heavy sigh and placed one hand over Adrien’s, thumb lightly brushing over the coldness of his ring. Adrien watched his father in great anticipation, because with him, he could never be sure of anything.

“When you were little, I was just starting up my own business, so your mother was the one you always turned to whenever you got hurt,” his father reminisced, the corners of his lips turning up fondly. Adrien remembered that too – his father was almost never home during the day, working round the clock and building his enterprise. He clearly recalled the time he fell off his bike and scraped his knee, and that his mom immediately tended to him and brought him to the ice cream parlour afterwards. “but she’s still gone.”

Adrien said nothing more, instead paying attention to the soreness of his throat and how he wheezed slightly with every breath, so Gabriel continued. “Adrien, I need you to trust me and tell me these things. If I don’t see it on the first day, I don’t want you to wait until I do. Your fever could have gotten much worse, and I might not even know unless you tell me.”

 _I’m sorry,_ Adrien waited for him to say. _I promise to be a better dad, and I’ll try to be there for you._

Those words never came.

“I understand, Father. I won’t do it again,” he said after another prolonged moment of silence, now watching him rise and walk out the door, leaving Adrien to himself. He was lying through his pearly white teeth and he knew it. All this talk about trust and letting him into his life was nothing but mahogany – he could always try and try, and keep on trying, but most of the time, getting his father’s attention ( _before_ even telling him if anything was wrong) was much like winning a lottery, except that lottery prize brought let-downs and disappointments.

When he was much younger, and the pain and sorrow of losing his mother was fresh and his father became a changed man, he used to get overexcited when Gabriel showed him little, simple acts of fatherly love – like getting him his favourite blue scarf, or watching _Solitude_ with him, or even _letting him go to a real school_ (that, on its own, was a battle he was proud to have won) _._

Though, having Plagg drive him up the wall and the freedom that came with being Chat Noir, he had grown more of a tougher skin, and was allowed to have a mind of his own. His eagerness to accept Gabriel’s attempts to be a good father at an instant gradually diminished over time, and he knew to expect more. While it was good that his father was trying for him, it wasn’t enough. It didn’t _feel_ enough. Emilie had been gone for three years now, and while he missed her more with each passing day, he had long accepted that fact – but Gabriel was yet to come to that. 

Adrien now had his familial expectations from his father significantly risen. He had seen, had once even _known_ , what a real home was like. It was where showing openness and devotion and _unconditional_ love was never meant to be asked for, but to come naturally. It was a lot more giving than taking, and communication, and making time for them was one of the most important elements of a good family.

And he had two of the busiest bakers and their wonderful daughter to thank for that.

“Adrien, you have a visitor,” a new voice chimed in, and Adrien looked up to see Nathalie by the bedroom door, and a pair of bright blue eyes and pigtails came to stand beside her. His eyebrows shot up to see Marinette in his room – it was as if his thoughts called out to her the very second she came into mind.

And when she smiled – oh, _man –_ it was as if the cold, unforgiving aura his father brought in never seeped into his walls, and with every step she took, it was like she was filling his room with her delightful warmth and compassion, and he was suffocating, and he loved it. He always thought she had so much good to give to this world, and he wanted to drown in it.

Every. Single. Day.

“Hey, Adrien!” Marinette waved to him, and he immediately jumped out of bed to greet her like a proper guest, like any good host would.

Too bad his own two feet didn’t get the memo.

In his rush to see her, he didn’t notice the pile of empty toilet rolls Plagg must have left soon enough, and he knocked it down and tripped, his eyes closed shut and ready to embrace the hard crash to the floor – but it never came. He froze, and slowly opened his eyes to find that Marinette had acted quickly and caught him by his elbows, shocked herself. With a nervous fit of giggles, as she let go of him as sudden as she saved his fall. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, but all Adrien could do was nod, unwilling to speak. “I guess it’s about time I repay you for all those times you’ve caught me,” she guessed with a half-hearted shrug. Ah, yes, this was the girl with two left feet who often had bruises here and there from her accidents. She was notorious for being clumsy, and Chloé used to use that against her a lot, but Adrien never minded it in the least. It was a charm of hers, he believed, and each time he saved her gave him a few extra seconds to see her for the day.

_Caught him, she did. In more ways than one._

He cleared his sore throat, and suddenly it became very hot in his room (and it wasn’t the fever). “Thanks, Marinette,” he managed.

“Don’t mention it.”

The sound of another throat being cleared woke him up, and he forgot Nathalie was still there, and she watched _everything._ “I will leave her to you,” she said, voice kept professional, but when Marinette helped herself to the white couch by the TV, Nathalie paid him a small, sly, _knowing_ grin before seeing herself out.  

If it wasn’t hot before, it was positively _boiling_ now.

Stifling another cough, Adrien made his way towards the couch and took a seat on the armrest. He immediately darted a glance across the table, and upon the elegant pink box that now sat on the glass. His imagination ran wild of what could possibly be in that box, and his mouth began to water at every possibility if the regal insignia of T&S told him anything.

He watched as she lifted the lid to show him an array of fresh pastries from the bakery, croissants and chocolate eclairs all arranged snugly within the walls of the box. As his eyes widened and sparkled in wonder and joy (like everyone did in anime), Marinette took deliberately slow movements to push the box towards him, clearly enjoying his flabbergasted reaction. “What?” she offered, amused, when he finally laid his eyes on her and _away_ from the sweet treats. “You didn’t think I was gonna show up without something to eat, did you?”

She was too good to him. She was _much_ too good to him, and he was at a loss for words. What could he possibly say to her _that made sense?_

He didn’t. He decided to grab a croissant and rip one end off.

Then she was hesitant, and slowly brought her hand forward to him. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I…?” She didn’t need to finish the question. He spared her by taking her hand in his own and placing the back of it to his forehead. Her lips pouted, and even in distaste it was adorable. “I think it’s already been said, so I won’t say it. And I’m sure you won’t need a mirror to know how washed out you look.”

“Gee, thanks a lot,” Adrien joked with a playful roll of his eyes, and he calmed his nerves a little more. Still chewing on the buttery layers of pastry, he asked ungraciously, “What brings you here?” 

Marinette picked up an éclair from the box and took a bite from one end. Maybe it was to bring him ease, or maybe she threw her manners out the window, because she didn’t wait till she swallowed to answer. “What better than free food and good company, right?” she replied, echoing the text message she sent him only two days ago. She set the pastry down on the table and rummaged through her backpack to fetch something Adrien couldn’t see.

“Right,” he agreed, taking another bite. This probably wasn’t the best for him to eat, given his current situation, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Remembering how his father wouldn’t approve, he took a bigger bite with his mouth still full. 

Marinette had fished out a metal thermos and poured its contents into the cap before offering it to Adrien. Noting the trails of steam that left the cap, he tentatively took a quick sniff. The rich, chocolatey aroma could only mean one thing – so he took one long gulp, and it burned at the back of his throat, and he felt at peace.

A grin that spoke volumes of joy and contentment might as well have been on display for all of France to see, with how he was _not_ trying to hide it. “This is _so good!_ ” he declared, taking one long, slow drink of the cocoa goodness. “Did you make this yourself?”

She nodded eagerly, with a smile that matched his own. “I made it for you this morning. It’s an old recipe my Papa used to make when I was a kid.” She looked down shyly at her fingers, linking and unlinking them in thought. “It’s not the one my parents make every winter. This one… this one, Papa would usually make every time I got injured, or sick, or if someone hurt my feelings, or if I had nightmares… let’s just say I’ve been having it a lot more often. I figured you might like some since, you know, you’re sick and all.”

Adrien’s ears didn’t catch that last part, and his grin disappeared and morphed into a confused frown. “Nightmares?”

Marinette nodded mutely.

Without thinking, he flipped his legs over and sunk into couch cushion next to her, offering the now-empty thermos cap to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She eyed it dejectedly in his hand, the gleeful light dying in her eyes. He probably stepped out of line, because she looked like she was fighting something back and he wanted to rescind his offer. Adrien was not new to seeing his dear friend like this, especially since they had gotten so close over the years, but it hurt him no less each time. Maybe Ladybug wasn’t the only one of his friends needing some cheering up. 

She did say good company was essential, and she deserved nothing less. 

Adrien gently took the thermos from the table and poured some into the cap for her, then pushing it into her grip. He wasn’t sure if she was going to take it because, he assumed, he could’ve contaminated it, but he thought she should see the thought behind the gesture. She hadn’t exactly said no yet, so he kept waiting until (or if) she was ready. 

Marinette probably either neglected the fact that he was sick, or she didn’t care, because she downed the entire thing in one gulp, wiping her mouth with her sleeve afterwards. He was almost going to tell her to forget it and change the topic, but then she spoke.

“There’s someone I’ve known for a while,” she said, trying to sound stronger than she felt. “He’s done a lot of dumb things… but he’s also done a lot of things that scare me. So, in my dreams, I see those scary things again and again, and I hear myself scream after him. They’re just so wild and intense and _so horribly_ vivid, that I tend to wake up in a cold sweat and my parents come into my room to see if I’m okay. I know they’re dreams but they just feel so _real_ , so whenever I see him I get this massive rush of relief, and I just want to hug him.”

It took a while for Adrien to process what she just told him. When he didn’t say anything a second too late, Marinette shook her head and took a croissant from the box. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid, I’m probably not making any sense.”

“No!” he stopped her, turning away to cough into his fist. “No, it’s not stupid! Marinette, you say the most wonderful things, what you say could _never_ be stupid.” Then her jaw dropped slightly, leaving her gaping, and she turned a bright shade of red. He realised too late what exactly he just said to her, and his face heated up instantly. He wondered if he looked as red as she did. “Wait, that’s not what I meant! I mean, I’m not saying what you’ve said _was_ stupid, because it totally wasn’t! I-I’ve actually really loved a lot of things you’ve said to me – wait, what? Agh!” Why couldn’t get his thoughts together?

In the middle of his inner turmoil, he saw Marinette’s shoulders hunched up and down in silent amusement, and she chuckled into her palms. “Well, I’m glad you think so,” she told him as she kept on chuckling. 

_God, she’s cute._

Giving up, he sighed and just told her what he thought – well, not exactly. Hearing this actually made him… a little jealous, he was ashamed to admit. Someone in Marinette’s life had such an impact on her, that he was in her mind constantly to the point where she had dreams about him at night. She didn’t speak of him like she would about Alya or any other friend. She held him so dear in her heart, that she would cry for him in her sleep regularly. Though it wasn’t hard to be in her good graces, all Adrien could think of was how lucky this guy was.  “Must be some guy, huh? It sounds like you really care about him.”

She smiled absentmindedly. “Yeah, I do. He’s one of my dearest friends.” She then gave him this wistful look and cocked her head slightly to one side. “Actually, he’s a lot like you. I think you two will get along pretty well. Maybe one day I’ll introduce him to you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You guys have the _worst_ sense of humour ever! His puns and jokes are as bad as yours!”

She brilliantly dodged the throw-pillow he threw in her direction, and he cursed her top-notch reflexes.

She picked up the pillow from where it landed and laid it flat on her lap, resting her elbows on top of it and propping her chin in her palms. “But enough about me. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Agreste?”

And from then, for the next twenty minutes, they went back and forth in their conversation, Adrien telling her about what happened with his father that morning and his mixed feelings about it, and Marinette saying everything he needed to hear. It was evident she had been frustrated _for_ him, but she remained calm with what she said. Never once did she say, ‘just give him time, he’ll come around’ like everyone else in his life did (because, as Alya put it, _she_ would be the most dismayed whenever Gabriel wouldn’t let him leave the house). Instead, the very last thing he could remember from this was when she said, “just because he loves you, doesn’t mean you have to approve of what he does.”

And she was absolutely right.

As she went on a tangent about the shenanigans their classmates had been up to, Adrien lost track and stopped paying attention. All she’d been saying blurred, but it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t like he _wanted_ to stop listening, he just did. He observed as she flailed her arms everywhere and her eyes lit up in fervour as she talked, and he was utterly struck by her vivacity. Her liveliness was almost unparalleled, and the only person he could think of that matched her fire went around in spots and red spandex.

His thoughts derailed when a hand was waved in front of his face. “Adrien, you there?”

And he sneezed in her face.

Forget boiling, the room was _scorching_. Like he’d been thrown into the mouth of an active volcano. There was _no way_ to play it cool after that. 

His eyes were the size of lacrosse balls and his face was the ripest of tomatoes. He froze momentarily, before yelping, “I’m so sorry!” profusely, and bolting for the bathroom to get her a few squares of tissues. He came back, somehow fumbling the tissues in his fingers, and found her already wiping the spit and remnants of snot away with a handkerchief. 

He was ready to dig a hole in the ground and die.

He was about to apologise again, but the look on her face stopped him. He didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t for Marinette to look him in the eye and then suddenly burst into laughter. She threw her head back and tried to stomach her howls and guffaws, letting out a snort or two.  

Adrien couldn’t be more besotted with her if he tried.

She took the tissues from him and wiped her tears away, and she stood up. “I should get going,” she said, tucking the tissues and handkerchief away in her little purse but leaving the box and thermos behind. “Don’t wanna be late to class again.”

He checked for the time on his phone. “Well, _that_ ship sunk.”

“That’s never stopped me before, right?” She walked out of the room, Adrien seeing her out all the way until they reached the threshold of the front doors. She was about to leave the premises of the Agreste mansion until she stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. “If you’re up for it, maybe you could drop by the bakery later?” 

He held his chin up, but the awkward sneeze-cough ruined what he was going for. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Marinette granted him one last smile and strolled out the main gates, and Adrien watched her every step of the way until she was out of sight, leaning against the jamb.

And a feeling of guilt finally sunk in his subconscious.

Apparently, that was evident on the face he pulled, because Plagg suddenly appeared beside him and crossed his little arms. “Thinking of Ladybug, huh?”

Keeping his eyes out on the streets, he sighed. “They’re both so wonderful, I don’t know what to do.”

“Isn’t it normal to like more than one person at once?”

Adrien closed the doors behind him and met Plagg in his beady eyes. “Why are you encouraging this? I thought you didn’t get love.”

“I _never_ said that. I’ve been around for millennia, kid. I’ve watched my Chat Noirs fall in love and do all that sappy romantic crud a gazillion times. I just don’t _like_ it,” the kwami said as they walked together towards his room. “but I do want you to be happy.”

His expression softened, moved at the confession. “… really?”

 “Your dad takes all the fun out of what life’s meant to be. Your life at home sucks.” Plagg was not beating about the bush or making any effort to sugar-coat. “I know you want a real family with love and warmth and all the things that make me wanna throw up, but he’s not delivering. If Marinette and Ladybug make you happy, then go for it. What have you got to lose?" 

“Their _respect_ , if one of them rejects me and they think they’re the rebound.” A cold feeling of dread climbed up his spine. He never wanted to say that again.  

“Don’t you always follow your heart? What’s it telling you now?”

Adrien thought long and hard about that. He always did go with his gut feeling, and that wasn’t always a bad thing. It made him want to give up being Chat Noir altogether, but it also made him walk away from finding out Ladybug’s true identity and keeping her trust. Right now, there was only one thing it told him to do.

“It says I’ve got a picnic to prepare, Plagg. And there’s only one bakery good enough for Ladybug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took a lot longer than i thought, clearly i didn't know where i was going in adrien's part (but i do now!!! never fear) i realise how unfair it looks that adrien gets more content, but that'll all be remedied in a later chapter :D
> 
> i actually got sick posting this up :(((( im mentally exhausted and sneezing everywhere but i'll be fine
> 
> come bother me on my tumblr @ rosettared!


	3. No Such Thing as Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's good friends, and one unexpected customer, pay her a visit at the bakery, and Chat Noir finally learns what he feels for her (and that he should pay more attention to weather forecasts).

“Thank you, _monsieur!_ Come again!”

Marinette spent that evening helping her parents’ in the bakery, greeting and serving customer after customer after customer. She couldn’t, for the life of her, remember why there were so many people today, and every time she asked her parents of the occasion she would forget as soon as they told her. They patiently answered her question the first two times, but by the third, they just told her to forget it, and that it wasn’t so important.

It wasn’t her fault, really. She couldn’t help that all she could do was pointlessly hope for a mop of blond to walk through the door.

She had just waved away a couple customers: a father with his little daughter, her excitedly swinging the bag with a box of tangy lemon macarons. The bakery became less crowded as it got later in the day, and the sky was a wild mix of blues and oranges, peppered with white fluff. Then she heard the bell above the door, and she whipped her head a little too fast that her hair slapped her cheeks. Her widened smile fell slightly, and her excitement gone to see who had walked through instead, but she wasn’t disappointed.

Alya came in, looking better than ever, with Alix, Mylene, Rose and Juleka in tow. “Hey, Marinette!” they all greeted simultaneously as they all walked through the threshold and closed the door behind them. Marinette took the opportunity of the lack of other customers, and quickly went around the counter to greet each of her friends with a hug and kiss on both cheeks. 

When she had come back to school that afternoon after visiting Adrien, with her routinely tripping on air and apology to the teacher, all five of them had known where she’d been. When the teacher wasn’t looking, she felt five pairs of eyes burning and digging at the back of her head for answers. Marinette had promised to deliver details when she suggested they pop by the bakery later that day, so she figured that was exactly why they were here.

She looked over her shoulder and asked her mother, who was also manning the counter, if she could go on her break, to which Sabine nodded in permission. She led her friends up the stairs towards the living room above the bakery, and it was frankly much more appropriate to gossip than where complete strangers could overhear. Marinette held the door open for each one of them, watching with a grin as they made themselves comfortable on the couch, just as they had been here a billion times.

Once Marinette untied the strings of the white apron around her waist, hanging it over the couch, and took a seat on the small white table in front of the TV, she saw that her friends all had their eyes on her, patiently waiting. She plopped her elbow on her thigh and rested her chin in her palm. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, hmm?”

Alix rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. “Cut to the chase, Dupain-Cheng, you know exactly why we’re here.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“We all saw how the light in your face died when we walked through the door. Were you expecting someone else? Maybe a tall glass of Adrien Agreste?”

She crossed one leg over the other, and flipped her hair over her shoulder, deliberately adding dramatic flair to her faux obliviousness. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she persisted.

Alya stood up from her seat and scooted Marinette over to make room for her on the table, and before she could get a ‘what are you doing’ out, Alya had Marinette’s smartphone from her jean pocket in her hand, and she held it high enough that Marinette couldn’t reach. Even before she could start the chase around the living room for her device of secrets, Alya having jumped over the living room couch and elegantly landing behind it (perhaps her double-life as Rena Rouge _had_ pulled off in her normal life), Alix and Mylene got up and held her down on the living room floor, and all Marinette could do was watch as her treacherous best friend unlocked her phone.

She should never have told Alya her passcode. Best-friend etiquette was the _worst_.

“Let’s see, what do we have here…” Marinette could _feel_ Alya’s finger hovering over her ‘Messages’ app, Rose and Juleka watching in anticipation from their seats.

“No, don’t!”

It was like she wasn’t there. Any attempts to stop Alya were futile, as she could only squirm under Alix’s and Mylene’s hold on her and pray that the wooden floor underneath her would swallow her into the ground. At that moment, she would do _anything_ if it meant she didn’t have to listen to whatever her friends were about to uncover, and subsequently endure the embarrassment.

“Ooh!” Rose pointed to something on her phone, and her eyes lit up. “That’s the Adrien one! Open it up! Open it up!” 

But they didn’t give her much of a choice.

Then Alya’s face morphed into an expression that Trixx would applaud with joy and pride to see; it was cunning, it was devious, and it was clear by the raise of her eyebrows and the look in her eyes that she had a scheme ready to hatch. Had the phone not been in her hand, she would have probably rubbed her hands together like some evil genius like Dr Drakken or something (okay that was a lie, it didn’t really matter if she had her hands full or not. Anyone who knew her was very much aware how much of an evil genius she already was). 

“Look how much I have to scroll up! You guys sure talked a _lot_ today,” the sly fox commented, and Marinette was dreading what was about to go down. After Marinette left the Agreste premises and came into class, it was true that she and Adrien had texted back and forth for the rest of the day, right up till she had to start her shift at the bakery. With a simple clearing of Alya’s throat, she felt her face drain of colour. There were things they’ve said that she’d rather  _not_ have her friends read (they weren’t _so_ bad, just private). 

“ _Oh, Marinette!”_ Alya read off with an intentionally poor impersonation of their friend and fellow classmate, exaggerating the deep, manly tone in her voice. Adrien had definitely _not_ said that. “ _Thanks for dropping by today! If you hadn’t showed up, I don’t think I’d come out of bed! You know you could’ve joined me under the covers!_ Winky. Face. _”_

Above her, Alix’s ears perked up at the direction this was going, and a cheeky, mischievous smile appeared on her lips, one that fit so well for someone like her.  “Lemme see! Lemme see! I want to read it too!” Alix then rushed to join Alya’s side, leaving Marinette’s left wrist free, but it wasn’t like she could stop them anymore. Mylene had also joined the other girls, and Marinette stayed with her elbows on the floor. They were already going through her texts; the damage was done. Might as well watch this unfold, right?

Alya handed the phone over to her, and Alix let out a devious chuckle that gave Marinette more of a reason to worry. “ _Oh, Adrien!”_ she followed Alya’s lead to add things that weren’t there, laying on the soft, feminine tone a little too thick, like she was the female lead in a horrible soap opera. “ _You’re all talk, aren’t you? Like I said, anything for my friends! You know me, when they’re down, there’s nothing I won’t do to add a little more cheer into their day!”_

Mylene held her hand to her heart, eyes soft. “Aww, Marinette! That’s so true!”

Alix, on the other hand, looked like she was controlling herself from gagging. “A little egotistical of you to say about yourself, though?” Marinette tried for an indifferent shrug. “You should write for kids’ shows, if what you say to _Adrien_ is this corny.” 

“Shut up, Alix, there’s more!” Alya slapped the tomboy across the shoulder, grabbing Marinette’s phone from her. She scrolled down a little more, probably skipping the texts she didn’t find so interesting, and then stopped. “Oh my _god,_ Adrien… geez, Marinette, your banter’s real cute and I can’t believe he tells you all these!” Alya was no stranger to Adrien’s sense of humour, but she was lucky she didn’t have to read his jokes as often as she did.

“I know,” Marinette sighed. “It’s a miracle my forehead isn’t as red as it should be.” 

“Why don’t you read them out?” Juleka asked. 

“Maybe on your own time, I’m looking for juicier stuff.” Alya shook her head and came back to the phone. “Ooh, here’s one!” Then she cleared her throat again. “ _Oh, should I mention that I’ve run out of croissants and eclairs, and the box is now empty?”_

“Oh, you brought him pastries!” Rose chimed, wistful. “That’s so romantic!” 

“Yeah, that’s really sweet of you, Marinette,” Juleka added.

Before she carried on, Alya reread what she was about to read off, and when she brought her hand up to her mouth, with eyes wide, Marinette knew she was in trouble. “ _Mind if you come back and bring some more? Don’t worry, I promise I won’t sneeze on you again.”_ And when she finished, the sound of four jaws dropping straight to the floor was as instantaneous as it was loud, and left Marinette with a lot of explaining to do.

“He _sneezed_ on you?!” they cried at the same time, a little louder than Marinette preferred.

She leapt to her feet and swiped her phone from Alya’s dirty fingers while she was distracted. There was no way she was letting them take it away again, so she grasped it tight in her hand. Sure, it was possible for her to play it cool that Adrien Agreste, the epitome of poise and courtesy, had sneezed in her face, and now her closest friends knew about it – she just wasn’t sure _how_ she could play it.

“Guys, it’s no big deal,” she tried, and hoped she looked convincing. “He’s sick, and he felt a sneeze coming out, and it was just a spur of the moment. It could’ve happened to anyone.”  

“Yeah, and in that same moment, he could have _looked away_ ,” Alix pointed out. “And it happened to _you._ Do _you_ sneeze on other people, Marinette? That’s gotta mean something.”

“It was an accident, and he apologised a lot about it. It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know.” 

“Girl,” Alya started. “This is _Adrien Agreste_ , the world’s most composed and collected seventeen-year-old, the son of a world-renowned fashion mogul. He probably learned socialite speak before he knew his ABC’s. He wouldn’t know rudeness if it was shoved right up his-" 

“Okay!” Marinette interrupted. “I get it, I get it! Just get to the point, please!”

“The point is-”

“He totally likes you, Marinette!” Rose cut Alya off, excitement clear.

“What?” Marinette could’ve laughed. There was no way Adrien liked her – well, they were really close, and she knew he really cared about her, but he didn’t like her like that. Though she would’ve given absolutely anything for that to be true, she had long accepted the possibility that he couldn’t see her as more than a friend. The girls weren’t even there when she visited him over lunch break, and they’re basing their assumption over a sneeze? “No, he doesn’t, that’s silly.”

If looks could kill, the way all five of them knitted their eyebrows in frustration would have beaten her to a pulp.

“It was just a sneeze! C’mon, guys. Like you said, he’s the son of a world-renowned fashion mogul. He could literally have anyone he wanted, so why would he want me?” Marinette brought her phone up and turned it on just to see her lock screen wallpaper, which had become a habit by now; it was a selfie Adrien had taken of the two of them, his arm slung from her shoulder, happy and toothy-grinned at last year’s Rock en Seine. It was his first time at a proper music festival, and she cherished how happy she remembered him being the whole time, the two of them having the time of their lives. Her lips turned up at one of her favourite memories, and then she heard more throats clear.

“Maybe because you two are near inseparable?” Juleka suggested, prompting the others to snicker. 

“No, we’re not! I’m just saying that I’m just me. Plain ol’ Marinette, a normal girl with a normal life. There’s nothing special about me.” _Maybe except the fact you run around the city rooftops in a red bodysuit and save the world on a regular basis, but they don’t have to know that,_ she thought. “There are a ton of prettier girls out there that he might already like, and some of them are lucky enough to work with him. Remember the time he liked Kagami?”

“Oh, who _can’t_ remember?” said Mylene, sliding off the couch to stand next to Marinette. All of them had been absolutely livid when she told them about the situation Adrien had put her in when he asked for help with Kagami. “Kagami’s great and all, but she’s not like you. _You’re_ lucky enough to be one of his closest friends, and Adrien and Kagami aren’t like that. Your ‘nothing special’ was enough for the elegant Adrien Agreste to lose his cool and sneeze in your face, you know?”

“And we thought _Adrien_ was blind,” she heard Alix mutter to Alya and Juleka. 

“You know how you acted around Adrien those years ago?” Rose came to join her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You were always nervous and almost never spoke complete sentences around him.”

“Yeah, I was fourteen! That’s completely normal, right?”

“How do you know this isn’t Adrien’s way of being nervous around you?” This was getting ridiculous. Her friends were out of their minds. The thought of Adrien being nervous around her was too absurd to entertain. Tripping on air and stumbling over his words and sneezing in her face didn’t mean that Adrien liked her that way.

Did they?

Her brain flashed memories of Luka that had been stored away for a while. Luka Couffaine; an older, more charming guy who had been there when she had been grieving over Adrien's absence, and paid her the attention she had been so desperately craving from a boy who couldn’t. He was always so nice to her, helping her out and finding ways to cheer her up when her own friends couldn’t. He was also _such_ a smooth-talker – he always knew just what to say to catch her off guard every single time. Luka was never a nervous wreck around her, and he made his feelings for her quite apparent. Was it really right to compare Adrien to Luka? 

No.

Mylene was right – just like Adrien and Kagami, what Marinette shared with Luka was so different than what she shared with Adrien. They had something more solid, a more concrete bond that she and Luka just didn’t have. Maybe it could be that she and Adrien spent so much more time together, that they ran in the same circles and have literally been classmates for three years, because they really knew each other inside and out (mostly, save her secret identity). Adrien was one of her best friends, and their friendship was something she valued so deep in her core. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Luka as a friend – after he had let her go, that was all they had been to each other – but it wasn’t the same. Besides, she had seen Luka with a couple more girls over the years, and she observed that his charisma with the ladies was more natural and came by easily. He hadn’t been nervous around them either.  

So what did all this mean with Adrien? 

 _That means there’s a chance that he_ does  _like you, Marinette!_ One part of her brain told her. _You’ve waited for this for years! He finally likes you back! You should go find him and tell him how you really feel about him!_

 _But should you, really?_ Another part of her brain argued. _Do you really feel that way anymore? You know there’s another reason you won’t accept that he likes you, and it wears a mask and cat ears._

Marinette wanted to counter Rose’s point with some gibberish that even _she_ didn’t believe, but then there was a knock on the door. Their sudden guest didn’t bother to open it. “Marinette?” Tom continued to knock. “Could you come downstairs, please? We have a customer here for you.”

Marinette shared a confused look with her friends. It wasn’t like her to turn someone away, but she was on her break, and she wanted to spend it with her friends – could this person wait a teeny bit longer? “Who is it, Papa?”

“I think you should come see him for yourself, sweetheart,” her father answered from the other side of the door. “He really wants to see you.” 

“Alright, I’m on my way down!” After telling her friends she would just take a moment and slamming the door shut, she dashed down the stairs straight to the bakery counter. Her view was blocked by the burly chef, and she tapped on his shoulder. “Who is it?”

Tom only smiled, wordlessly moving aside to reveal Marinette’s special guest – and it was like he was conjured from her thoughts. She had _just_ been thinking about him, and then the very boy that she spent most of her nights with showed up at her door? This was too much for her to think of as a coincidence.

“Chat Noir?” she gasped, surprised. The hero only gave her a two-fingered salute in greeting, and she took note of the picnic basket in his hand. 

_Oh, boy._

She watched as her father took the basket from his fingers, exchanging whispers with the hero before nodding and giving him a knowing wink. He turned to Marinette and bent down to her level. “I’ll go leave you two alone,” her father whispered into her ear and then disappeared into the kitchen. “The buns and brioche ‘knead’ me!” he shouted, out of sight, and Marinette sighed at her father’s antics.

She redirected her attention to Chat and fully registered his presence, and she knew he was _definitely_ hiding something from her. He looked much worse than he did last night, his skin lacking their colour and nose redder than ever. He acted like nothing was wrong, but the grogginess in his eyes betrayed him. He looked about as bad as Adrien – what were the chances? 

“How’s it going, Princess?” he attempted to sound well, but she could hear his throat failing him. Without a word, she grabbed him by his leather belt of a tail up the stairs and to the front door. She peeked her head through the threshold. The girls were still there, waiting for her.

They straightened up at the sound of the door creaking open. “So sorry,” Marinette began. “but do you mind if you guys go up to my room?” 

“Is something wrong?” Mylene asked.

“No, no! It’s j-just… I have a guest here, and I think he’d also appreciate that we get a little – ahem – privacy, that’s all,” she managed. She couldn’t imagine having to say, ‘oh it’s nothing, just got Chat Noir, one of the city’s greatest defenders from evil, who also just happens to be my partner-in-crime, up in my own home because he’s an idiot for thinking I won’t be able to tell that something’s wrong, but he’s _my_ idiot and I need to look after his sorry butt’.

All of them lifted their brows suggestively. _“He?”_  

Cheeks now growing warm, Marinette stepped through the doorway and chased them up the stairs to her bedroom. “Shoo! Up you go now, thank you very much!” Only when all five of them were gone did she invite Chat inside her living room. She wasted no time hurrying to the kitchen and getting him some paracetamol from the cabinet and a mug of warm milk, hyperaware of his eyes watching her every move. She was grateful that he stayed silent the entire time even as she sat him down on the couch and shoved the pills and milk in his hands, and that he was unhesitant to take them. Maybe it was because she watched him so intensely, or maybe it wasn’t, but he managed to finish the entire mug in her presence.  

The two of them kept the eye contact even as he set the mug down on the table. “Is it that obvious?” Chat said to her at last.

“You look like you died last week,” she told him abruptly. What she appreciated about Chat Noir, even when she was Ladybug, was that he almost never took it to heart when she was being frank with him. Most times he would laugh it off. “Half my school had gotten sick over the past month. You’d think it was a coincidence.”

“Don’t tell Ladybug that,” he tried to chuckle, but in that moment, his façade dropped with a sigh of defeat and a lazy slump against the couch. He fiddled a little with his claws, now not even trying to hold back on his awful coughs. He wasn’t going to talk about it, but Marinette was determined to get it out of him.

“Does she know about this?”

He shook his head and sneezed. “At least, I hope she doesn’t.”

“She’s gonna find out eventually.” _And you’re in so much trouble_ , she thought. “Why haven’t you told her?”

He coughed again into his gloved fist, and sniffled. She didn’t need to hear his answer – she knew he didn’t want to worry her even more than he already had, because he was like that. That was a classic Chat move. He had the tendency to put her needs before his own, which, if her nightmares and the past three years told her anything, was not always a good thing. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her?” he guessed.

“Chat.” Marinette was not happy with that answer. _Try again._

“I know, I know,” he sighed again, as he dug at his cheekbones with the bottom of his palms. His breathing stopped for a couple seconds, and she waited, but then she jumped at the sudden violent sneeze that left him with a trail of snot on his gloves, and she immediately got up to fetch him a box of tissues. “She _can’t_ know about this. I’ve got this really special thing for her planned out tonight, and I’m really hoping it’ll work out, so I can’t have her worry about whatever’s going on with me.” He blew into his 3-ply. “I told her it could be food poisoning, but obviously, if _you_ can tell that I’m sick-”

“How long have you been sick?” 

He said nothing for a few long seconds. “Almost a week?”

“ _A week?_ Chat, you can’t possibly go through with this,” she told him, her voice flat and stern. If he was hiding the fact that he was sick from her, she couldn’t imagine how he would feel throughout the entire dinner he had planned for them. He would be suffering in sniffles and suppressed sneezes while she slurped on a smoothie (or whatever he was bringing to the dinner), and that crushed her. “It’s a bad idea and you know it. You gotta take care of yourself first, you know.”

His hands dropped to cover his mouth, and even through that she could hear his muffled voice mutter, “you sound just like her.” Perhaps she should put more emphasis on her ‘concerned civilian’ voice’ and tone down her ‘it’s a good thing I care way too much about you or else you’d be dead with your tail tied to a Notre-Dame gargoyle’ voice.

“I’m serious!” Marinette moved a little closer to him and draped her arm over the couch behind him. “It’s alright to put yourself first sometimes. You’re sick, and you need your rest at home. Whatever ‘dinner’ you have planned for her should wait until you’re much better, right?”

“That’s true, but…” he paused to cough into his tissues. “but I _want_ to do this for her, and I really can’t wait any longer. I want to make things up to her.” 

Still acting like she had no idea what he was talking about, she tilted her head to one side and raised a brow. She just wanted to know how we would explain it to a civilian, to _her_ – it wasn’t like she’d been haunted by nightmares of him dying over and over or anything. “I-I-I’m sure whatever it is, she’s already forgiven you, but I’m a curious kitten,” she said with a wink. “What did you do?”

He averted his eyes away from her. “Well, I-heh,” he tried for another chuckle, but a cough came instead, and she silently handed him another tissue. “Well, I… you can’t tell _anyone_ about this, but… I kinda… kinda went a little too far with taking dives for her, and she’s taking it really hard. I want to make things right. I’ve done a lot of really stupid things, and I definitely don’t think straight when she’s around.”

“Really?”

He smiled. “Yeah. You ever love someone so much for so long, that your brain completely shuts down? Like any sense of rationality goes down the drain, and all your nerves and jitters that come when they’re close take over your entire being? You know that feeling?”

Her thoughts immediately went to Adrien. All the times she had stumbled over her own words trying to talk to him all those years ago, all the things she had done for him that had come with consequences she hadn’t considered, putting his happiness first.

Then they went to Chat Noir. All the times she had been so close to pulling him into a tight hug after battles and not let him go, all the dumb things he had said that made her want to take him by his annoying little bell and kiss the living daylights out of him.

“Yeah.” _More than you’ll ever know,_ she wanted to tell him.

“That’s why this _has_ to happen tonight, Marinette. I let her down, and if I don’t fix it by tonight… well, I don’t think I could live with myself. I could go on the rest of my days kicking myself just _thinking_ of all the things I should’ve done tonight! I could go insane!”

He always did tend to be a ridiculous drama queen from time to time.

She couldn’t help but bring her hand to his cheek, burning hot under her skin, like she had done a thousand times before. She couldn’t exactly see the logic behind his little explanation, but she’d take what she could get. Her kitty was in absolutely _no_ shape to be out and about, but if she couldn’t talk him out of it, then so be it.

That was power that Ladybug wielded, not Marinette.

She frowned at feeling his temperature rise, and he frowned to see her frown. Her eyes roamed from the gentle crinkles of his mask, to the wild locks brushing his steaming forehead, then to his eyes that seemed to lose their glow, and she hoped she didn’t have to see him like this ever again.

 _You could never let me down, minou. You never have,_ she thought.

“What was that?” asked Chat.  

Had she actually said that out loud?

“No-nothing! I didn’t say anything; did yousay anything? Because I! I totally didn’t,” she defended herself, but she was sure now she looked red enough that it gave her away. “What I meant was, uh,” she cleared her throat. “I don’t think you let Ladybug down, Chat. I’m sure she really cares about you, just as much as you care about her. You’re best friends, right?”

She found quiet joy in how his lips turned up. “Yeah, we are,” he replied, utterly pleased that he could say that with confidence.

“Then you’d know how she’d really appreciate if you look after yourself too,” she reiterated. “I think if you called off the dinner for tonight, she wouldn’t mind, but that’s your choice to make.” 

“Marinette.”

“I’m just saying, Ladybug seems like the kind of person who’d be happy to make her friends happy. If I were Ladybug, and I’m not saying that I am, I’d be much happier to know you’re snug in bed watching sappy romantic comedies and taking your rest than upset at you for putting off the dinner until you get better.”

Chat kept quiet for a while, but he took Marinette’s hand off his cheek and clasped in it his own, and her nerves tingled when the tips of his claws tickled her skin. “You’re a great friend, Marinette, you know that? It’s like you can read Ladybug’s mind better than I can.”

“Lucky guess?” Marinette nervously chuckled. “You’re one of the sweetest guys in Paris, Chat Noir. Everyone knows that. I’m sure Ladybug will understand.” Then she brought her other hand to wrap around his, and his grin widened. “I know I would.”

The smile that he gave her could have tricked her into thinking he was totally fine, that he was better than okay. It brightened him up entirely, and Marinette could stare at it all day long. She probably would have, had Chat not looked up at something from behind her. “You didn’t tell me we’d have an audience.”

Marinette heard giggles, and she immediately stood up to hear the sound of a camera click. “Don’t mind us, just watching the show,” Alya waved, and the door of her loft closed shut.

They were _so_ dead. 

“Excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back,” she told Chat over her shoulder, before immediately marching up the staircase to her loft. She was going to have a little chat with her so-called ‘girlfriends’ and get her hands on their phones.

 

* * *

 

He was still going to do it. Adrien knew Marinette only wanted the best for him, but no matter what she said, he was still going to go through with this picnic. This dinner was _happening,_ and there was nothing anyone, not even Marinette, could say or do to stop him.

A part of his brain was telling him, _you know you shouldn’t have come, you’re only wasting your time. You’re probably wasting her time too. Why don’t you turn around and tell her to forget you ever came?_ Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, he should have thought twice about dropping by. Had her parents’ bakery not been the best one in all of Paris, the best for _Ladybug,_ he probably wouldn’t have.

Well, that wasn’t _entirely_ true.

Alright, that wasn’t true at all.

He just had to see Marinette again today, and he’d be darned if he didn’t get to after all she’d done for him. Though if he had showed up as _Adrien_ , he probably would’ve been shooed out and taken home right before he could get a foot through the door. This was the best excuse he had. 

It was seldom he approached Marinette as a superhero, beyond times of distress and akumas. The mask had allowed him a blank slate to their relationship when he first came to her as Chat Noir, giving him the chance to start a new friendship. He recalled the very first time they met, when Ladybug assigned him to watch over her when she was involved with the Evillustrator so long ago. Perhaps _“I thought I was going to have to save you from that girl's claws”_ wasn’t the best ice-breaker.

Nah.

He thought about some of the times after that. Taking her away from the Gamer, keeping her safe in the Eiffel Tower when La Befana was akumatised on her birthday – but those were because of akumas. There was one night that went beyond those. He didn’t look too fondly at that night – the night he had only set his heart up for disappointment, and how he had acted and treated Ladybug. It wasn’t her fault, she _told_ him she might not come, but he didn’t listen. Though Adrien was ashamed of how he behaved, what came of that night wasn’t all bad. Yeah, Ladybug let him down, but she appreciated what they already had – their friendship. He shouldn’t taint that.

That was the one night he sought Marinette’s company _before_ an akuma came into the picture. She was just as distraught as he was, and her company put his mind a little more at ease. He had never seen her so sad before, standing all alone on her balcony and searching the skies for hope, just out of reach, and she had appreciated his company too. He thought cheering her up could cheer himself up, and bringing her to his surprise candlelit dinner brought joy he had never seen on her face.  

He would’ve appreciated that more if he hadn’t been thinking of Ladybug.

Now that he really thought about it, Marinette was the only civilian Adrien, as Chat Noir, had told of his feelings, his _real_ feelings. Sure, lots of tabloids and reporters have speculated a spark between the heroes, but she was the only one he had personally confided in about this. She knew _from the source_ that what he felt for Ladybug was true. As Chat Noir, he had the most interaction with her, and it wasn’t like he could’ve told anyone when he was Adrien. If he had told Nino or Alya, they wouldn’t have understood – they would’ve deemed him an infatuated fanboy of their local heroine, not really getting how his love and admiration for her ran much deeper than that. Besides, Nino and Alya were already together – he didn’t really want their sympathy.

But Marinette?

He couldn’t imagine telling anyone else. Telling her didn’t feel out of place at all. They were two broken hearts seeking comfort in each other. She was there to listen, her mere presence enough, and she knew how he was feeling because she was feeling the same.

But that begged the question, _what kind of guy would ever break Marinette’s heart?_

Adrien decided that was not a thought he should entertain right now, so he stood up from the couch and started to pace. His eyes roamed aimlessly around the house; from the homey little kitchen, to the TV by the couch, to the framed family photo on the shelves, then to the stairs up Marinette’s bedroom; as he tried to block out whatever arguments she was having with her friends. He didn’t dare wonder what on earth Alya, Alix, Mylene, Juleka and Rose had done, and should not eavesdrop, so he tried to think of anything else to occupy his thoughts.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to, for the living room door was quietly opened and Sabine appeared with a tray. “Here,” she said, laying the tray down on the coffee table and a single whiff of fresh chocolate chip cookies gave him whiplash. “On the house, dear.”

Adrien smiled at her. “Thank you, Mme Cheng,” he replied. Sabine simply returned his grin before heading up the stairs and knocking on the loft door. 

“Marinette! Break time’s over!” 

“Okay, I’ll be down soon!” Marinette hollered, muffled and immediate, and her mother soon left him alone once more. There was an _“alright, that’s it, out, out, out!”_ from her before the loft door swung open and each of her friends climbed down the stairs and to the living room. He gave them all a friendly wave and gestured towards the cookies, encouraging them to help themselves to them, before Marinette could say anything to stop them.

“No, no, no, you guys don’t deserve these after _that!”_

“Uh, uh, uh!” Alya pointed, waving a finger in the air and a cookie to Marinette’s face. “Too late for that!” And before he knew it, his other classmates were out the door and out of sight, chuckling and giggling all the way, and Marinette let out a resigned sigh. 

She turned towards him. “I’m so sorry for that,” she tried, reaching for the apron over the couch and putting it back on, and taking a cookie for herself.  “My friends can be really… disruptive? No, no, that’s not it. I mean, they’re just a little-”

“That’s alright, Marinette, I understand.” Adrien held a hand up, effectively stopping her, and fell in step with her as they walked through the door to head downstairs. He had been watching Marinette hang out and laugh with her friends every day at school for the last three years – it was kind of hard for him not to know what they were like. Occasionally, he’d be in their company too, and there had never been a time when he hadn’t enjoyed it. “My friends can be like that too,” he added, after a couple sneezes. He could call them his friends, right?

Marinette’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” she asked, incredulous.   

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” There was something she wanted to tell him, he knew that, but she shook her head and pursed her lips instead. She was in total disbelief, was it hard to picture him having friends? Then he realised – she was talking to Chat Noir, and his personal life was not meant to be any of her concern. He was simply one of the defenders of Paris, seen around only when there was any trouble. Wasn’t it weird to think that he and Ladybug were _real people,_ with their own friends and family and lives?

He too often thought of that. Sometimes when he was modelling, or doing homework, or in the car ride to school in the morning, he would catch himself wondering, what was Ladybug doing right in this moment? Was her life as hectic yet routine as his own? What were her friends like, and what was she like around them?

Has she told the boy she loved she loved him?

 _It’s been three years, she_ must  _have,_ he reminded himself. _Right?_

They had reached the bakery counter, and Adrien had to hide behind it, sitting on the floor to avoid patrons bothering him. After Marinette attended to them, he had her attention again.

“So apart from Ladybug,” Marinette suddenly spoke, clearing her throat, and crouching to his level. “Are there… are there any other girls in your life? I mean, not like your mom or sister or anything, _obviously,_ but like, um… have you ever thought of anyone else like that?” It was clear she was trying to be careful with her words, but he was more intrigued by the fact that she was asking at all. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to, I was just thinking out loud. I probably stepped out of line a little, but–”

“– two.” 

The answer slipped off his tongue easily. The first to pop in his mind was Kagami, a formidable fencing opponent. “One was someone I first admired for her skill. She is an incredibly gifted fighter. We shared classes together, and she always kept me on my feet. It was never easy trying to beat her, and I’ve learned a lot from her. She _never_ second-guessed herself. She was confident and bold, and she had these mysterious eyes… but nothing really happened with her. What I thought I felt for her was just… well, I guess it was just in the moment. I mean, we’re still good friends, but looking back, I know that it wasn’t real, we weren’t right for each other anyway. It was for the best that things happened how they happened, you know?”

Adrien coughed some more, then glanced towards the girl before him, anticipating her reaction. She was listening to him intently, expecting to hear about the other girl, and he was almost hesitant to proceed. An awkward blush crept up to his cheeks.

He had _so much_ to say about her.

“Then the other girl… honestly, I don’t even know where to start,” he continued, and in classic Adrien fashion, a hand was brought up behind his neck. It was weird to talk about this other girl  _to her face,_ but he just had to conceal specifics. “Man, I could write a book about her. There’s just so many things about her that I’ve admired for years. She’s incredibly talented and passionate and driven, and… oh, _boy,_ you should hear her talk about her dreams. When she dreams, she dreams _big_ , and you just know she’s going places _._ Actually, you should get her to talk about anything. She’s got this fire in her eyes and so much spirit in her soul, that it makes me wanna have more meaning in my own life. I just feel so good when I’m around her, and she makes me want to be a better person.”

He wasn’t even looking at her anymore, more immersed in saying everything he loved about this other girl, about _her_. It was nice to let this all out, because talking about Marinette was the easiest thing to do. “After Ladybug, she’s the kindest, most selfless person I’ve ever met, no doubt about that. She always wants to help other people and really goes out of her way to help them in whatever way she can. You can always count on her to be there for you.” 

Adrien made a mistake to take another look at her. He met her eyes, and immediately recognised that something was off. Her smile was getting faker, and her whole being dimmed. Maybe she was feeling awkward having to hear all this, for this was much more than what she had heard about Ladybug.

“I’m really sorry, I guess I should just stop here-”

“No, no, no, don’t!” Marinette protested. She made a quick look around the shop, there were no patrons around. “I… I’d like to hear more about her. Please.”

Alright. 

He tried to straighten up, but that failed as he stumbled to reach for a tissue to blow his nose into. Marinette helped him with that, and he quickly recovered. “She was one of my first real friends ever. I always thought she was just a friend to me, because I loved – _love –_ Ladybug so much, but lately… I’ve been seeing more. She’s smart, and fun, and sweet, and wonderful, and so easy to talk to, and…” Adrien took a look into her bright blue eyes. They were very different from Kagami’s, they didn’t speak mystery like hers – instead they spoke volumes in warmth and comfort and everything beautiful in this world. “… and  _so, so_ beautiful.”

Marinette stayed quiet for a second too long. “… so, is there… has anything happened between you two?”

He _wished_.

“Oh, n-no… well, not yet? I don’t know, I’m… I’ve known her for years but I’m only realising all this right now. I haven’t told her how I feel and…” _and she’s in love with someone else,_ Adrien wanted to say.

“You love her, don’t you?”

He paused. Adrien had to process what she had asked him, and really think on what to tell her. Did he? Didn’t he? This was Marinette, and he could never lie to her about anything. There was only one answer he could give: the truth.

“Yeah…” he looked up at her and smiled. “Yeah, I… I guess I do. I love her.”

His ears perked up at the words that fell from his own two lips, and all of a sudden a giddy feeling rushed through him. He loved her. Adrien loved Marinette, and it felt so good to have finally put his feelings in those three simple words.

He loved her! 

Then one thought popped in his mind, but should he really sate his curiosity?

Adrien cleared his throat, additionally getting the phlegm there out and spitting that out into another piece of tissue. “But enough about me, who’s _your_ mystery man?” He wiggled an eyebrow, trying to disguise his real motive of asking this. “C’mon, Marinette – I’ve been going on about my own love life, don’t you think it’d be fair if you shared yours with me?”

“Believe me, you don’t wanna hear it. My love life is pretty boring. He’s just some guy I’ve known for a while,” she said dismissively.

“Please,” he scoffed. “I’m guessing it’s the same guy from when we last talked about this? If he broke your heart then _clearly_ he is not ‘just some guy’.”

Marinette couldn’t give him a direct answer right then, because a few more customers had walked into the bakery and Adrien had to stay silent. He brought out his staff from his back and checked for the time. Six o’clock. He had just an hour to get the patrol picnic prepared for Ladybug, but oddly enough, he felt no rush to leave Marinette’s side. He did, however, feel the rush to talk to her again, and these customers sure were taking their time. 

More and more began to come in. Two minutes became five, then five became ten, then ten became twenty, and twenty became thirty. It took a lot of effort to hold back the coughs and sneezes that attempted to surface, and he wasn’t feeling any better. He watched her and her mother (who eventually joined her at the counter) on their feet as they served customer after customer, and he was losing time. Adrien ended up sitting there for forty-five minutes, and he realised he was overstaying his welcome. After the last one left the bakery he stood up and made a walk towards the door. “I should probably go,” he apologised. “You and your family need to get back to work.”

“I’m really sorry, Chat,” Marinette replied. “Maybe next time, okay?”

“Thank you so much for coming, dear!” Sabine chimed in from beside her daughter. “It was lovely to have you around.”

“Oh, wait, before you go!” another voice boomed from behind them. Tom then appeared behind his family with the basket Adrien had brought in earlier, holding it out for him to take. “I’ve got the best of the best of our treats in this little bad boy, and I even threw in a flask of fresh hot chocolate for ya. You take this and have a good time, alright?” Tom then flashed a warm, happy, fatherly smile from where he stood, right before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.  

When he let him go Adrien could finally breathe once more. “Thank you, M. Dupain,” he cleared his throat. “How much?”

Tom and Sabine shook their heads vigorously. “No, no, no, no, no! No charge!” Tom said sternly. “For all you’ve done for Paris, this is the least we could do.”

“You’re not paying a cent for any of this, young man,” Sabine added. “We won’t allow it." 

Marinette walked away from her parents and pulled Chat down to her level, whispering in his ear. Maybe she could tell that he felt conflicted on whether to accept this generous offer. “I’d listen to them, if I were you. I didn’t get such a hard head out of nowhere, you know.” She took a step back, and he nodded.

Adrien took a good look at her parents, picnic basket now in hand. “Thank you both so much, I really appreciate this." 

“You think Ladybug will appreciate this too?” Tom asked.

“Absolutely!”

“Oh, send her our regards, dear! We want her to know how grateful we are for our heroes,” Sabine said.

“I will!” And with another salute, he pulled the bakery door open and walked out. He had only gotten so far around the block when he heard the bell chime again, so he turned around and found Marinette on his trail. He had taken glances at her during the entire exchange with her parents, and she had a look on her face that he didn’t like the whole time. She was now showing him this look again, with an intensity of a thousand-fold. 

She was worried again.  

Her eyes then darted towards the basket, and then back up at him. “You’re still gonna do it, aren’t you?” Disappointment was evident in her tone, and he couldn’t ignore it. He hated it. 

Adrien offered a shrug. “Yeah.”

The five seconds of silence between them then were agonisingly slow, but then she huffed out a sigh and placed her hands on his own on the basket. She met his eyes again, giving him a straight smile. She got on her tiptoes and placed a quick peck on his cheek, and he was burning up.

“Just… be careful, okay?”

She didn’t even let him speak. She just turned around and walked back towards the bakery and left him on his own, now more of a mess than he’d ever been. He watched the empty space where she’d once been, a hand slowly rising to his cheek, his fingers lightly grazing the spot she had kissed him. Had it not been for the loud, sudden honk of a nearby car that jolted him out of his shock and brought him back to his senses, he would have stayed there for the rest of the night.

He looked down at the basket. Ladybug would be here soon, he knew it. So he extended his trusty staff and shot right up, leaping towards the roofs and running in spite of his shortness of breath. Just in case he had anyone else (Marinette) watching him, he deliberately took long and complicated detours before finally reaching a balcony not far from Marinette’s own – the very same one he had chosen when he had last suggested a dinner with Ladybug.

Adrien landed and immediately took out the contents of the basket, beginning with laying out a classic red-chequered picnic blanket. Ladybug did say that she would be a little late, and he was _super sure_ she said she would come, so maybe he could take his time setting things up. Tom and Sabine did not come short with what they had stocked in his basket – the long silver flask of hot chocolate, two ceramic mugs, and three different boxes of pastries. Maybe he should wait for Ladybug, that way they could open the boxes together.

It was a matter of time when the sky above him became darker and more depressing, but he made no issue of it as he lighted up a few candles one at a time. He tried not to acknowledge the way the clouds grew bigger and greyer, accumulating over his head, as he carefully and meticulously arranged paper plates and plastic cutlery on the blanket. He pretended not to be bothered by the loud boom of thunder as he scattered many rose petals all over the balcony. He was recreating what he had done once before, except Ladybug was in fact showing up. A little weather shouldn’t change his mind. 

But when he felt a single droplet fall onto his head, maybe it was wise to take that back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK WHO'S BACK BABY
> 
> It only took six months to get this up, and it was only after I had finished some stressful assignments that I got the motivation to get back to this. I hope you all enjoyed it!! Come bug me on my tumblr (I'm rosettared there too)

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally gonna have much more emphasis on this one scene i'm dying to write, but i wanted a much stronger reason for them to reveal themselves. 
> 
> yes, that scene is the reveal (and it's strongly inspired by this one scene in a japanese drama) and the story's much longer because i've gotten so sick and tired of marinette holding back because she's 'insecure and thinks chat will be disappointed'.
> 
> nah man. our girl ain't like that.
> 
> come bother me on my tumblr, rosettared!!


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